Wednesday, November 10, 2004

 

3(a.)

3.

Gary Ablett stood in the foyer of his house as Doug and Bill carried equipment in. He’d been planning this party for almost four months, and he was glad that the day had finally come. Burke and Joanna Ablett went on a three-week vacation every February, and he’d watched and waved as the limo pulled down the driveway, headed for Tweed-New Haven Airport. Burke’s private Lear would be waiting there to fly them to Aruba, where the Abletts owned a beachfront house. Before he’d left, Burke had given Gary a few rules for the party, which Gary wouldn’t have any issues with.

No one goes up to the third floor. No one leaves in an ambulance. No one drives drunk under any circumstances. Beyond that, Burke trusted Gary and knew that nothing bad would happen. He didn’t know that Cerebus would be playing, but Doug had assured Gary that there’d be no sonic damage to the house.

“Besides,” Doug said as they walked between classes one afternoon, “any damage, you can just take care of it before the old man gets back.”

Now it was the day before, and Gary was running around, fussing over a number of last minute things. He wanted everything to be perfect, because this was his big chance to show that he wasn’t just a geek hanger-on, but one of the Golden Boys. Most of the seniors at Holy Mother tolerated him because he hung out with the Golden Boys and was the manager of the hockey team, but Gary was hardly high on the popularity ladder. He bristled at this, but he understood it.

Gary was short, and he was conscious of it. He was five-six and weighed about one-thirty on a good day. He wasn’t a true geek, or so he thought, as he wasn’t a Trekkie or a D&D’er. Those were the real geeks. He played sports with the guys, though not well, but he could hit a baseball pretty far. But his geekiness was measured by others at Holy Mother by his 102 grade average and the honor society, and by the room full of computers that he had in his second floor wing. He was the kid who blew the Bell curve, the kid who other kids always had to hear about, and he was sick of it. He just wanted to be one of the guys.

Charlie Ferris had always treated him as one of the guys. He supposed it had to do with the fact that Burke had taken pity on Charlie when his dad had popped his mom and himself, and taken him in. Charlie had become his adopted brother, but he never treated him like a brother. Charlie had gotten him his first date, and had taught him how to drive, and how to hit a hanging curve. In exchange, Gary had helped Charlie master English and kept him on the hockey team and out of detention more then a couple of times. They’d grown up together, and Gary supposed he’d miss that when they went their separate ways in the fall. Gary’d gotten early acceptance to Cal Tech, and he figured that Charlie was bound for the NHL. At least he’d still probably see Jack.

Then there was Audra. Gary had been working his senior American Government service project when he met Audra Pendleton. Audra was a purple-maned dynamo whose mother ran for a Connecticut state House of Representatives seat, and Gary had gone to work for her campaign. They had been sent out together to knock on doors and get out the vote, and by the time they got back to the headquarters, Gary was in love. In Audra, he’d found a kindred geek spirit. They played chess, argued about the merits of giant rubber-suited monster movies, and went to concerts in New Haven and Norwalk together. And best of all, her parents loved him. He suspected that the fact that he was as straight a kid as there was probably had a lot to do with it. The less they knew about what else me and Audra do together, the better, he thought.

He walked out onto the front porch and looked up. It was extremely dark out in the far reaches of the Bethany woods, and the sky was alive with stars. The weathermen were calling for snow tomorrow, maybe a couple of inches. Geoff Fox, the Channel 8 weather guy had been particularly sure that it was going to snow, but Gary didn’t trust his calls anymore, particularly since he’d called for an inch of snow a week before. Everyone had gone to school, and then had to hastily be dismissed as the forecast changed from an inch to a foot.

Doug stepped out through the door and stood beside him. “What’s up, Professor?”

“Nothing, man. I was just looking at the stars, and trying to gauge the weather.” Gary shivered. “I hope it doesn’t snow too much tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Gary. Everyone is coming to your party. It’s gonna be something else.”

“I hope you’re right, man. I hope you’re right.”

“I know I am. Hey, can I use your phone? I gotta call Kim and see if I’m in the doghouse again.”

“Yeah, man. You know where it is.” Gary watched Doug walk off towards the great room and shook his head, then headed back inside himself.


Kim Masters was staring at a blank piece of paper when the phone in her room rang. She had a paper to write over the break, and she was trying to get started on it, but she couldn’t think of a thing to put down. She was thankful for the interruption and picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.” Doug’s voice, rough and a little thick, on the other end.

“Hey, what’s up? Where are you?” She looked at the clock. It was a little before 7, and she figured he’d be home.

“Up at Gary’s. Me and Bill had to come and set up for tomorrow night. We won’t have time to do it tomorrow.” He paused for a second and then continued. “You still mad at me?”

“I should be asking you that question.” Kim and Doug had been sitting in McDonald’s eating dinner a few nights before when a fire truck drove by outside. Without thinking, Kim had asked if that was the truck Doug’s dad had been on. That set Doug off, and the rest of the night had been uncomfortable silences punctuated by shreds of conversation.

Doug’s father had been a New Haven city firefighter, and had passed away a little over a year ago. There had been a terrible fire on Legion Avenue, in the Hill section of New Haven. It was a 5-alarm blaze at an abandoned factory, and Engine 5, Randy’s company, had been second responders on the scene. Upon arrival, his team hooked into a hydrant, and started laying down a suppressing flow on the roof, which was fully involved. Randy, a lieutenant, had gone into the building with another firefighter to run another line. Inside, they’d gotten pinned in by a backdraft, and Randy hadn’t been able to escape when the second floor collapsed around him. The kid he went in with was able to knock back the flames, but by the time they got to Randy, he was gone.

“Hey, I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me.” She could hear an edge of emotion in his voice that betrayed the lie in his words. “You are coming to the game, tomorrow, right?”

“Of course. Why would I miss it?”

“Well, I figured you might be annoyed at me and not want to see us win the championship again.”

She laughed. “Oh, come on. How long have we been together? Have I missed any of your games yet? Or your shows?”

“That’s true. I’m just missing you a little, that’s all. Tomorrow things will be better. I promise.” He coughed. “I gotta go. Bill’s yelling for me.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“Hey, I love you too, kid. No matter what. Don’t worry about me, everything’s cool. You know how things are for me right now.”

“I do, really. I know how tough it is for you. Now go play with your little friends and don’t stay out all night.” She hung up the phone.

The last year had been tough on both of them. Doug wasn’t a particularly good student, and he’d been spending more time with his band then with his studies. He had some idea of getting a record deal and moving up in the music world, but that was a few years off, at least. Kim, on the other hand, was an excellent student and was waiting to hear from a few schools on her admission applications. She was hoping for Penn State, but had already been accepted at Emerson in Boston and Salve Regina in Newport. Doug had half-heartedly applied to Salve and a few other schools, but with a 1010 on his SAT’s and a B-minus average at Holy Mother, she wasn’t expecting him to get in anywhere. That had put a strain on their relationship. Then Doug’s dad had been killed, and Doug started to drink a little, and party a little more. She didn’t mind the partying, really, but sometimes he liked to get a little too loose for her tastes. Hanging with Bill Ryan didn’t help that either.

Doug had started Cerebus with Bill when they were still eighth graders, and they had slowly and steadily gotten better in the four years they’d been jamming together. But unlike Doug, Bill was a party-hard-all-the-timer who was always trying to get him to do ridiculous things. They’d nearly gotten suspended during sophomore year for posting flyers all over Westville announcing a big party at Gary’s house when his parents were away. Of course, they hadn’t told Gary that they were doing it, then laughed and laughed when everyone in the class showed up on Gary’s doorstep. She was pretty sure that Bill was also, at the minimum, a major pothead, and possibly into the harder stuff, though she wasn’t sure. As far as she knew, the most Doug was doing was drinking, and while not great, that was okay by her, compared to what Bill was up to. But since he and Bill were band mates, Kim tolerated him. Barely.

Kat stuck her head through the door. “Was that him?”

“Yes. He and Bill are up at Gary and Charlie’s getting set up for the party.”

“Did he say anything about Charlie?”

“I didn’t ask. He is YOUR boyfriend, after all.” Kim looked at the piece of paper sitting on the table. It was still blank, and wasn’t gettting any less blank while she sat here jawing with Cheerleader Barbie. “I have to get back to this, okay?”

“Fine. Sheesh. You’re no fun.” Kat flounced off and Kim turned back to the desk. But she just sat there, staring off into space and wondering if everything was really all right with Doug.

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